


was falling into place (i found a way to live it better)

by softlees



Series: this is life in color [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, basically everyone has multiple soulmates and every time you meet one you see in a different color, i managed to get ot13 here NICE, just??? a lot of seokmin falling in love with everyone in a different way, this is my first fic of this size n for seventeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlees/pseuds/softlees
Summary: Seokmin thinks that he would like to see in technicolor one day. He does not mind making space in his heart for all these people, all his soulmates. His mind soars at the prospect of holding that many people close to him."It’s kind of like collecting Pokémon," Soonyoung offers, whispering to Seokmin. They become seat buddies after a lot of pleading on Soonyoung's part and some tears on Seokmin's. "You gotta catch them all."—in which seokmin falls in love. over and over and over again.





	was falling into place (i found a way to live it better)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tarantism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarantism/gifts).



> for the ever-so-lovely rosie !!!
> 
> i hope you like your present :))) it was a delight to write for you, in the legendary rhhb fic exchange. also: quick shoutout to rhhb, u guys rock n are the bestest cheerleaders in the entire world. i hope the universe i set up makes sense,,,, to be honest i fell in love w this idea and it kind of morphed into something all on its own. this is my first time writing anything of this length, and i really don't know what overtook me but. voila! here is a 17K fic about seokmin falling in love in different ways, and discovering things out about life, in others. 
> 
> enjoy!! i love you so much, my darling.
> 
> [title is taken from hotel apache's dare me, which is pretty much the anthem of this fic and what i listened to on repeat while i wrote this]

_V I O L E T_

_of a purplish-blue color._

_designates the karmic soulmate. indicates that the souls have known each other, or may have had strong ties to one another in a past life._

**_“I knew you, once. In another life, in another time. But I was me, and you were you. The soul never changes. This, I know for sure.”_ **

 

—

 

Seokmin has a bad habit of missing things.

He leaves everything behind without meaning to, mouth moving a million miles a minute to occupy a mind firmly rooted in the clouds. He gets distracted easily, flitting from one topic to the next. It doesn’t help that his kindergarten teacher graciously let him have the window seat. She drones on, but he sees a butterfly here, an overeager puppy over there, a menacing tree that looks like the principal from far away.

He blinks, and the world continues spinning. Suddenly they’re on counting up to a hundred. Seokmin still has trouble with hitting twenty. He sighs, and directs his attention to the chalkboard, reminding himself to focus. The world tends to go on whether or not he is paying attention.

His mom likes to say that his heart is in the right place. It’s just that sometimes, his brain has a hard time keeping up with it.

It explains the multitude of scrapes and bruises on his knees, the trip to the emergency room, a product of climbing the trees in the schoolyard to help little Nayoung get her precious kite out of the branches. After untangling the device from the greenery, he had triumphantly shouted, pumping one fist in the air victoriously. He had missed the sound of the tree branch creaking under his weight. Suddenly, with an ominous _crack!_ he was no longer in the air and was instead fall, fall, _falling_.

It explains how his favorite teddy bear ended up sitting all alone on a bench in the park. He had cried for hours when they had gotten home and realized the stuffed animal was nowhere in the car, worried for Mr. Cuddles’ health. It was the beginning of winter, and wind had not been kind that day.

It explains why the 10 crayon set that he got for his fourth birthday has only 8 now, the red and blue crayon disappearing from the package almost the moment he opened it. _It’s alright_ , his mother had soothed, patting his hair. _I’m sure they’re having a grand old time away from the rest of their brothers and sisters._ He had taken solace in the fact that he didn’t see in those colors. Not yet, anyways.

He’s only five though, so he figures it should get better with time. Missing things, he means.

“Look at you, my brave little warrior,” his mom teases as she pulls the lapels of his puffy parka together. She gives him a little peck on cheek before she zips up the jacket. "Ready to take on the first grade?"

He smiles, puffing out his chest. "Yes, mom. I was practically _born_ ready."

"Good," she laughs, ruffling his hair. He squeaks, darting away to fix it before she can mess it up anymore. "That's my Seokminnie."

"Mom," he whines, looking up at her. "I'm, like, six now! You can't be calling me that in front of my friends, okay? It totally ruins my street rep!"

His mom blinks down at him in amusement. "Ah, really, _Seokminnie_?"

There's a couple snickers from his classmates, who have begun to line up in front of the classroom, waiting for their teacher. Seokmin wants to die on the spot. Or be struck by lighting. Whichever of the two is more likely.

"Mom!" He hisses, scandalized.

"Joking!" She holds up her hands in surrender, laughing all the while. She sobers up, and waggles a finger at him. "Remember to pay attention in class, honey. You can't be missing out on things. You're a big boy now, alright?"

Seokmin preens slightly under her compliment, and nods resolutely, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he links pinkies with his mother, finishing their secret handshake.

"Don't worry mom, I got this."

"Woah!" a voice explodes out of nowhere. Seokmin turns to see a small black-haired boy, with a parka of his own, looking at their hands in amazement. Something explodes in his vision, a bright vibrant hue of _something_ that makes Seokmin let out a little gasp and tumble over his own feet, ending up falling backwards into his own mother.

"Oh," the other boy says, "Did I startle you or something? I'm sorry. My mommy says that I need to be more careful with other people. I’m Soonyoung."

A chubby little hand is extended forward, but Seokmin's still having a hard time processing. What just happened? Did he miss it? Again? He had just promised his mom that he wouldn’t.

"Seokmin?" His mom nudges him forward. "Go on, honey, be nice. Shake Soonyoung's hand."

"It changed color!" Seokmin points accusingly at Soonyoung's shirt. "It scared me."

Soonyoung's eyes glitter. "Oh, am I your _soulmate_?"

Seokmin scrunches his nose. "Ew, no, gross! I just met you."

"It's okay," Soonyoung declares, crossing his arms and proudly tilting his chin. " _My_ mommy says that I‘m very good-looking. It's alright to be my soulmate. The other boys and girls will be very jealous of you. You're lucky, you know. You could've gotten stuck with a stinkyhead like Jeon Wonwoo."

Seokmin scoffs. Wonwoo is a good fellow, even if he is a bit quiet and weird and likes to curl up with books instead of spending recess outside like a normal kid. Seokmin would much rather be soulmates with Wonwoo than Soonyoung, who is abrasive and loud and unafraid.

His mom chuckles. "It seems like you two are having a good time." She checks her watch, eyes widening slightly at the time, and gently pries Seokmin's fingers from their grip around her legs.

"Go on, Seokminnie. Spend some time with Soonyoung, get to know him a little bit better. He is your soulmate - or one of them - after all. I've got to go to work now. Can I trust you to behave?"

"Yes, mom," Seokmin says, barely concealing rolling his eyes. His mother leaves with another ruffle of his hair, which Seokmin ducks once again.

"So," Soonyoung says, smiling. His cheeks are chubby too, just like his hands. Seokmin thinks he looks like a hamster, or maybe a bunny rabbit. "Soulmate, huh? What's your name?"

"Lee Seokmin."

This is how it begins.

—

There are different kinds of soulmates. Seokmin knows that, as does every other kid in his class. Everyone starts out life seeing in monochrome. The world is just a collection of grays, blacks, and whites, until you meet your soulmates.

There is a different color for each kind of soulmate, as has been drilled into Seokmin’s head since the moment he could walk. Red for true love, blue for true friendships, etcetera, etcetera. It makes a rainbow, all the colors at once.

Seokmin thinks that he would like to see in technicolor one day. He does not mind making space in his heart for all these people, all his soulmates. His mind soars at the prospect of holding that many people close to him.

"It’s kind of like collecting Pokémon," Soonyoung offers, whispering to Seokmin. They become seat buddies after a lot of pleading on Soonyoung's part and some tears on Seokmin's. "You gotta catch them all."

Seokmin guffaws out loud without meaning to, looking around in apologetic embarrassment when the rest of the kids shush him. It’s silent reading time, but Seokmin’s mouth itches to say more, to get to know Soonyoung better.

Their teacher gives the both of them a warning look, but it's nullified by the amused grin on her face.

Seokmin quickly learns that violet is the name of the color of Soonyoung’s shirt. It’s a pretty thing. It reminds him of warm skies and sipping on hot cocoa in front of the warm fire. It’s comforting. It almost feels like home.

Soonyoung tells him that he started seeing the color after making friends with Lee Chan, a kid in Soonyoung’s neighborhood, so Seokmin shouldn't feel too bad about freaking out. The first time it happened, Soonyoung says with a sheepish smile, he chucked Chan's ball at his face in a panic and tried to tricycle away from the poor child.

“I’m pretty sure I scarred him for life,” Soonyoung admits. “But he’s a trooper, that kid. He’s the best. Won’t say anything to his parents. He’ll keep a secret to the grave.”

Seokmin has never laughed this hard before in his entire life. It feels easy, talking to Soonyoung. being friends with Soonyoung. They feel like two pieces of a puzzle: where Soonyoung is all fire and spunk, Seokmin is more easy going, smoothing over edges that the other boy may create in his path.

“But,” Seokmin frowns, mind struggling to compute things as he tilts his head to the side, “If he’s your soulmate, and you’re my soulmate, isn’t that a problem?”

Soonyoung pauses to think about this.

“No,” Soonyoung says after a while. “There shouldn’t be a limit on how many people you can love. I can be yours and Chan’s soulmate if I want to. And I want to. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Seokmin giggles. “You talk funny.”

“Shut up,” Soonyoung grumbles, and shoves Seokmin in his chair, laughing all the while.

Seokmin mocks shock, whisper-yelling as he pretends to call for their teacher. “Mrs. Kim! Soonyoung just _swore_!”

“Shut up!” Soonyoung whisper shrieks, tickling Seokmin to keep him quiet. Seokmin yelps, nearly scrambling out of his chair to avoid Soonyoung’s chubby fingers of death.

“Mr. Kwon! Mr. Lee!” Mrs. Kim narrows her eyes at them, yardstick inches away from the wall. “Are you two going to behave, or do I need to separate you?”

“Nope!” The both of them chorus in unison, shooting each other harried looks.

“I told you to shut up,” Soonyoung says, kicking out his legs, muttering under his breath. Seokmin doesn’t respond, just flicks him in the arm, his heart far warmer than had been before.

 _Okay,_ he thinks to himself, gaze wandering around the classroom. _Okay._ He could get used to this.

—

 

_I N D I G O_

_a color between blue and violet in the spectrum._

_used to designate teacher soulmates. these souls will come and find you when you need to learn a lesson, or when your world needs them most._

**_“Whether you’re looking for a lesson or not, whether you think you need it or not, life will find a way to get it to you. The universe works in mysterious ways. I wouldn’t question it.”_ **

 

—

 

Seokmin is a middle schooler now. He's a good head taller, and his body is starting to grow into itself, all long lanky limbs finally beginning to show hints of meat on them. What's most noticeable are his legs, slightly bigger than those of the other boys, which he gets teased about sometimes.

He doesn't mind. They're very strong hips. He's proud to have inherited them from his mother.

Besides, he always wins at thigh battle, and his schoolmates always end up treating him to whatever he wants at the convenience store because he beats them. Namely Soonyoung, who keeps betting him a week's worth of snacks and losing.

If Seokmin were a better friend, he'd tell Soonyoung to stop betting money he doesn't really have. Soonyoung's pride, at this point, has all but been obliterated. It's tossed out the window and dying in a burning inferno, really.

According to the tally Seokmin keeps, the current score is 117 to 0.

He continues to keep missing things. At this point, Seokmin figures it's a part of himself now. It’s integral, as Wonwoo would say.

(Seokmin hopes he used that word right.)

Winter is cold this year. He shivers as he walks to school, burrowing further down into his turtleneck to keep the wind from biting at his nose. His earbuds are jammed into his ears hastily, the tips of which he is sure are pink, blasting his ballads at the highest of volumes.

The foot-traffic is unbearable, full of strangers who stumble around like they've nowhere to go. His fingers dance inside his pockets, impatient, itching to do something.

"Last one to Mr. Park's classroom is a rotten egg!" Soonyoung crows into his ear, taking special care to yank out an earbud so that Seokmin can appreciate the foghorn qualities a Soonyoung yell has in the morning.

"Jesus christ!" Seokmin clutches his chest in surprise, nearly flailing back into the nearest commuter, who simply glares at the both of them before pushing past them. "Soonyoung, you scared me!"

"Yea, well," Soonyoung grins, whacking Seokmin with his own earbud, "I said what I said. The last one to Mr. Park's classroom treats the other out to lunch!"

And with that, the boy departs into the crowd, weaving in and out sneakily.

"Hey!" Seokmin half-laughs, half-complains, but moves to follow anyways, as he usually does. Soonyoung always leads, and Seokmin brings up the rear. This is how they’ve always worked. "That wasn't what you said the first time!"

"It is what I said now!" Soonyoung calls back, tiny head bobbing up in down. Seokmin can barely pick him out of the crowd. He only does so because of the little scrap of violet fabric Soonyoung's pinned onto his jacket, just for Seokmin.

(The other boy had patted Seokmin on the back one day out of the blue, and took out a cloth and a safety pin, placing it in between them.

"What is this?" Seokmin had asked.

"This," Soonyoung had declared, pointing to the items, "is gonna be our thing."

Seokmin had only watched in awe as his best friend deftly fastened the scrap onto his jacket, taking care not to prick his fingers even if they were a bit chubby and clumsy sometimes.

"You can only see violet," Soonyoung had shrugged. "So how else are you supposed to tell me apart from all the other dweebs at this school?"

Seokmin had laughed then, a wide bright thing, shoving Soonyoung with two hands. "Aw, you _do_ care!"

"Shut it, Lee," Soonyoung had grumbled, ears turning a slight shade of red. He had adopted the habit of calling people by their last names, after a drama they had both binged a week ago. "You're my soulmate. I can't treat you like trash. I kind of have to care for you."

Seokmin had kept his mouth shut then, heart swelling even further. He hadn't told Soonyoung about the fact that several of their classmates had made fun of him for still only being able to see violet, despite being twelve years of age. Seven years was a long time to go without seeing another soulmate, without seeing another color, he knew, but Seokmin did not lose hope. He figured that they were just taking their time before they found their way to him. His classmates, of course, didn't think so.

He had wondered how Soonyoung had found out, but chose not to ask.)

"Wait up!" Seokmin yells into the cold morning air, fingers flying out of his pockets to help him navigate the sea of people.

"I can taste that ramyun you're going to buy for me later already!" Soonyoung teases from up ahead. Seokmin's eyes narrow, scanning for Soonyoung's scrap of fabric. Seokmin loves delicious food, but he loves not paying for delicious food even more. This is something he can and will win.

Spotting the fleck of color from up ahead, Seokmin smiles victoriously to himself. he can take a shortcut and beat Soonyoung, easy peasy lemon squeezy. He veers to the left, offering quick apologies to disgruntled elderly women and coffee-holding college students as he sprints out of the crowd and to the crosswalk.

The light is flashing as he approaches, which his mom has always scolded him heavily about - "Seokmin, promise me you won't go when it's like that, you know that you're not supposed to start crossing" - but for the sake free ramyun and winning against Soonyoung, he charges forward.

In this moment, Seokmin misses several things.

He misses the light turn.

He misses the white car turning the corner without stopping, driver on the phone talking a mile a minute, and assuming that there are no pedestrians, step on the accelerator.

He misses a small boy, who just so happens to look up from his game console at the moment to see it all unfold.

He only envisions the victory that lies ahead. Everything else falls out of focus, slightly blurred and left in a corner of his mind, unattended. That's how Seokmin has always been. He's always had a knack for stepping out of his body.

The impact hurts.

More than he thinks it would, anyways.

It's flesh and bone against something entirely else, and the collision of the natural against unnatural jars his entire world, shaking it to the core. Seokmin tumbles backwards to the ground, his forward momentum being counteracted by something firmly holding him back.

"Oof," He says, sitting flat on his butt. The white car zooms by, unaware of the damage it could've possibly done. Seokmin doesn't think he's realized what exactly has happened either. He sits, stunned, hands wrapped around his knees while he stares blankly ahead, cars filling up the intersection.

"Watch out!" a voice says. It's extremely annoyed, but has hints of worry interlaced in it. Seokmin looks up to see a tiny boy with a backpack slung haphazardly across one shoulder. His game console lies forgotten on the floor, disappointed sounds spewing out of it.

"I think your character died," Seokmin says in worry, pointing at the game system, taking a chance to peek at the boy. Something else bursts in his vision. _Oh,_ he thinks, dazedly, deliriously. _Oh_. Finally.

The boy looks at him like he's crazy. Maybe a part of him is.

" _Dude,_ you could've died."

"I suppose so," Seokmin says with a bright grin on his face, patting the dust off of his pants as he moves to get up. He sticks out a hand. "I'm Lee Seokmin. Who do I get to thank for saving my life?"

The boy looks at his hand dubiously, opting not to shake it. Seokmin's fine with that. Right now, his heart is singing because he's found another piece of home.

"... Lee Jihoon."

It's silent for a while. Seokmin retrieves Jihoon's game, and the other boy whips it out of his hands quickly, inspecting the sheer surface and wincing when he discovers a new scratch. Seokmin does nothing, just watches in admiration as the new color fills his horizons, splashing hues into things he had previously seen in a dull shade of gray.

He's really found another one of his soulmates.

"Well, then, if you’ll excuse me," Jihoon says, shoving his hands into his pockets, as if saving people from death is something that he faces on the daily. "I should go, I have class."

"Wait!" Seokmin interjects, one hand out to stop Jihoon (his soulmate!) from leaving, as he fumbles with the other, taking his cell to dial Soonyoung. his mom had given him extra money today, anyways, he remembers. He pats his pockets to check, the wad of crumpled won greeting him almost immediately.

"Hey Jihoon, how do you feel about ramyun?"

—

Life works in funny ways.

Seokmin nearly dies, but he finds another life connected to him because of it.

Jihoon is small in stature, but Seokmin quickly learns not to mention it, not if he wants a sharp swift kick to the shins. Seokmin likes his shins. They support him. He'll support them the best way he can in return, and if that means saving them from pain, then so be it. It's the least he can do.

( _“God_ ," Soonyoung had glared at Jihoon while rubbing his poor shin. Seokmin swears the little man bristled in defense. " _Do you cap your boots with steel or something?_ ")

Other than that, Seokmin doesn't figure out much about Jihoon. He can count the things he learns about the boy on one hand.

One: Jihoon is nearly five foot four. He orders two cans of coke, and Seokmin refrains from telling him that perhaps this is why. His mom always tells him that caffeine stunts growth. Jihoon is smart, he probably knows this already.

Two: Jihoon is Busan born and raised. He's here because his parents wanted to send him to a better school, to get a better education. He's coping, but it's a lot harder than he would like to admit, being so far away from home.

Three: Jihoon has had pink hair before. It was once, he admits, and it didn't look that half bad. Jihoon reveals a Halloween picture, much to Seokmin's delight, and warns that if Seokmin ever calls him fairy because of it, Seokmin will die.

Four: Jihoon is an only child. It isn't as bad as it sounds, because Jihoon is lonely in nature. He doesn't mind the quiet and the solitude that comes from being in a working family; he is fine left to his own devices. It is all that he knows. He cannot miss what he's never had.

Five: the color he sees because of Jihoon is indigo. It isn't like the bright violet of Soonyoung, though it’s very much similar. It's more subdued, mature. It is like meeting an old friend, comforting in a way that Seokmin figures only his mom has only ever been to provide. It calms him.

Seokmin decides that Jihoon is his new favorite person, right on the spot.

Jihoon crinkles his nose, and politely declines the offer.

Soonyoung's laughter can be heard from all the way outside the restaurant.

"So," Seokmin says, waggling his eyebrows as he clasps his hands together. His ramyun bowl lies finished, soup still steaming. Seokmin has always been a fast eater.

"Am I living up to your soulmate fantasies? I’m the best, aren't I? I knew it."

Jihoon just snorts derisively into his bowl.

“Hey,” Seokmin pouts. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

No one at the table answers him. Seokmin takes that as his answer, and starts to play with the napkins at the table instead, folding them this way and that as he waits for Jihoon and Soonyoung to finish.

"Only an idiot would rush into oncoming traffic, so I knew that the color that I was seeing was indigo. you were asking for death.” Jihoon says by way of explanation, later, as Seokmin asks for the check. The smaller boy pauses, noodles inches from his mouth, concluding as he shovels it in. "Or, at the very least, a couple broken bones and bad bruising."

"Why, what does it mean?" Soonyoung asks curiously over his mouthful, spit spewing every which way.

Jihoon looks mildly disgusted, but from what Seokmin's seen in the brief amount of time that he's known him, it might just be Jihoon’s resting expression.

"Close your mouth, you monster." Seokmin rolls his eyes, flicking his friend on the arm.

He remembers faintly a time back in kindergarten, when their teacher religiously explained each and every type of soulmate and their meanings. Seokmin had been rather occupied with the lawnmower that day. He would wave to the man every time he passed by the window, which was often, considering the recess yard was rather small and in the shape of a square.

He has no clue what it means. And because Seokmin is a boy rather fanciful nature, who tends to forget things as soon as he learns them, with his head in the clouds more than half the time, he has never bothered to check up on it.

“Geez,” Jihoon laughs, a wild sharp cackle. Seokmin likes the sound of it. “I guess I really _do_ have to teach you everything, don’t I?”

Seokmin smiles sheepishly. Out of habit, he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I guess so.”

Jihoon looks at him thoughtfully, lips teasing the edge of his coke can, and grins. His little dimple winks back at Seokmin and Soonyoung.

“Alright,” the Busan boy says, leaning back and draining the can dry. “I can do that.”

—

 

 

_B L U E_

_of a color intermediate between green and violet, as of the sky or sea on a sunny day._

_designates platonic soulmates. these are the souls one finds themselves at ease with. there exists a comfortability between the two wavelengths that is hard to replicate._

**_“We are friends. In this lifetime, in the next, and the one after that. You can come back to me, and I will be here waiting for you. Always.”_ **

 

 

—

 

Seokmin figures it's only fitting that a boy from the island of Jeju helps him see blue. His name is Seungkwan and he reminds Seokmin of a wave. There is a wild intensity to him, with swirling tides that he leaves in his wake.

This is how they meet:

A boy (Seokmin) sees the advertisement for a play. He is only a freshman, and he isn't quite good at sports like the other boy are, but he can still beat them fair and square in thigh battle, so he gets left alone for the most part.

Kids are cruel and smart, especially at this age; they are more content going for weaker prey, picking on his other classmates, like Wonwoo, who for the most part bears an unfortunate resemblance to a stick with legs.

Anyways, he sees the advertisement, and figures that this is something he can do. His pipes are not that bad, he feels - he's always singing for the neighborhood grandmas, who always croon and pinch his cheeks and tell him he's going to make someone very happy one day.

He decides to audition. At the same moment in which he does, a boy bumps into him. Seokmin's head rattles against the locker he's standing next to.

"Ouch," Seokmin says, mostly out of habit. He is rather clumsy in nature, and collides with most everything or everyone who comes his way. It's okay. His pain tolerance is off the charts.

A vibrant blue (though he doesn't really know it at the time) floods his world in response.

"Oh my gosh!" the boy says, eyes wide and hands flailing, his words tumbling over themselves in attempt to make their way out.

"I didn't kill you right? I am so sorry, I should've seen where I was going, ugh, I’m having a tough time navigating this dumb school, it's been an awful first day, do you maybe know where the nurse's office is? Do I need to escort you there, are you alright?"

"Woah," Seokmin holds out a hand, the other going around to clutch his head. "Slow down, bro. You said that _way_ too fast."

The boy stares at him for a split second, his queries pausing for a moment before he explodes in a flurry of movement.

"Oh my _god_ you have a concussion, this is all my fault I just wanted to get to my classes, see, Seungkwan, this is _exactly_ why you don't leave home, because all you do is mess shit up and-"

Seokmin half chuckles, very much amused. "I’m fine, really."

Seungkwan barrels on past him, pacing in circles as he lets out a barrage of words that Seokmin can barely catch the tail end of. In another life, Seokmin thinks, Seungkwan could've been a rapper.

"Hey!" Seokmin says, placing both his hands on Seungkwan’s shoulders, stopping him mid-tirade. "I’m fine."

Seungkwan looks at Seokmin then, truly, and lets out a small surprised, "Oh."

“Yeah," Seokmin smiles broadly back. There is a familiar symphony in his bones. "I'm pretty breathtaking, I know. Don't be afraid to take a moment and just take in the majestic-ness that is Lee Seokmin.”

He pauses, then adds, “Which is me, if you didn't know."

Seungkwan moans in despair, clutching his cherry red hair. "I just gave my soulmate a concussion. I'm officially the _worst_ person ever."

Seokmin nudges Seungkwan with an elbow.

"Don’t worry! This happens, like, all the time. I’ve gotten used to it."

Seungkwan stops from his lamentation and peers up at Seokmin in curiosity.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Seokmin shrugs, and knocks on his head lightly with a fist. "There's nothing in here anyway."

"I'm sure you're plenty smart," Seungkwan rolls his eyes, and puts his hands on his hips. "There's a difference between being book smart and being street smart and being people smart. You just have to figure out which one you are."

Seokmin blinks, because no one's ever told him that before. He moves to open his mouth and respond, but someone interrupts him.

"Boys," Mrs. Kang steps out from the auditorium, and affixes them with a stern glance. Seokmin thinks she looks like a hawk, with a rather sharp nose and spectacles to complete the look.

"Auditions are going on, and we can hear all your hullabaloo from inside there. Now, are you going to clear the hallways or are you going to join us?"

Seokmin looks at Seungkwan. Seungkwan looks back at Seokmin. _Hullabaloo_ , Seokmin whispers. Seungkwan laughs, loud and crazy. It's a funny sound. Seokmin wants to hear it again.

Mrs. Kang continues to look at them in disapproval.

"Well?" Seungkwan gestures towards the poster, examining it for the first time. They're planning on putting on a production of Beauty and the Beast. Seokmin has always loved fairytales. He's always been dumb romantic that way. "You in?"

Seokmin peers at the flyer, which is obviously student-produced. There is a haphazardly drawn stick figure complete with a crown hanging off its curls, and a hairy grotesque scribble opposite it that he can only assume to be the Beast. It's on printer paper as well, which pretty much proves its authenticity.

All in all, it seems like a disaster.

Seokmin grins. His favorites memories have always stemmed from disasters - he's best friends with Kwon Soonyoung, after all. He nods.

"We'll audition." They turn to the choir director and chorus, sheepishly skittering into the auditorium, muttering apologies to an unamused Mrs. Kang as she closes the door behind them.

—

Seokmin lands the role of Lumiere. Seungkwan gets Cogsworth. They even manage to corral Jihoon and Soonyoung together, getting them to audition too. They're technically late auditions, but it doesn't matter. Mrs. Kang is absolutely delighted to have a lot more testosterone in the ensemble.

They have never been more excited.

Time passes, until rehearsals come up, and they are all kinds of exalted to see the magic that comes with putting a production together.

There is just one problem.

"The tech sucks." Seungkwan all but yells out aloud, from his seat in the theater. Seokmin nearly smacks him over the head for his callous remark. The poor guy is trying his best, but all the theater kids know that he's only really doing it because he's trying to score a date with Belle, the lead, a junior by the name of Kang Seulgi.

Also Mrs. Kang’s daughter. Seokmin thinks he’s a brave soul, and wishes him the best in the endeavor.

"Seungkwan," Jihoon hisses, mortified eyes sliding over to the tech booth. Besides the fact that they all beat upperclassmen for main roles, they are still freshmen. Still very much the bottom of the totem pole. Still very much beat up-able. "He's, like, _right_ there."

“He’s trying his best?” Soonyoung offers, at the same time Seokmin goes, “He’s our senior!”

"So?" Seungkwan frowns, like this isn't a pressing issue. Then, louder, "He deserves to know!"

An audience laugh track blasts over the speakers, followed by a frantic, "Sorry!". Seokmin winces, because it's the scene where the Beast technically dies, before Belle cries and brings him back to life with the _power of love_. Soonyoung scoffs at it every time, but Seokmin just smiles proudly and tears up a little, not that he'll admit it.

Again, he's very much a sappy romantic.

Soonyoung cringes again as the laugh track makes its way around, but this time, it’s auto-tuned for some bizarre reason. Seokmin frowns. Those buttons are nowhere near each other on the board. A spotlight is turned on, right on cue, but it highlights the wrong student, who is in the middle of changing costumes for the next scene.

Mrs. Kang's disgruntled and frustrated yells echo off the tech booth walls and make their way to them in the auditorium. They all collectively wince.

"Okay, yeah." Soonyoung concedes, hands up in surrender. "Okay, yeah, we need to get a new tech guy."

"Where, though?" Jihoon frowns, ever the realist. "There's no way we can find someone who doesn’t have anything to do on a Friday night and even remotely good at dealing with technology. The show's in two days, remember?”

Seokmin smiles broadly. In a certain light, it could be described as shit eating.

Soonyoung's eyes widen.

“No,” he breathes in an interesting mix of panic and fear. Crushes, Seokmin thinks with a smirk, look a little bit different on everyone.

“Oh, _yes_ ,” Seungkwan and Jihoon say at the same time, cackling in their laughter as they catch onto Seokmin’s line of thinking. Soonyoung clutches his head and wails. Mrs. Kang doesn’t even have the energy to scold them this time.

—

They all collectively decide that Seokmin should be their ambassador.

"Me?" he blinks, feigning confusion. "Shouldn't Soonyoung do it? He's the one who actually has a class with him."

Soonyoung mumbles something between fingertips, the tips of his ears turning red.

"What was that?" Seungkwan innocently bats his eyelashes, apples of his cheeks peeking out while he beams.

Jihoon beats Soonyoung to the punch, says nonchalantly, "Soonyoung may have accidentally punched Wonwoo in the face."

Seokmin looks at Soonyoung, who, to his delight, has begun to blush a delicate shade of crimson. Jihoon is very much laughing at his friend’s pain. Seungkwan just holds a knowing smile.

“Don’t ask.” Soonyoung bemoans miserably. “ _Please._ ”

"Yeah," Seokmin laughs, happy that his friends trust him enough to be given such a hefty responsibility. The fate of their theater production rides on his shoulders. He feels important. "Yeah, alright, I can do it."

He spots their target in the cafeteria, sitting alone in his usual spot.

"So," Seokmin grins, sidling up next to Wonwoo, "What's good, J-W-W?"

"What do you want." Wonwoo grumpily peels back the wrapper of his burrito.

"I'm _offended_ ," Seokmin clutches at his heart despairingly, arm going around Wonwoo’s shoulders. Mrs. Kang doesn’t call him a natural for nothing. "I just want to have a nice little chat -"

“This is not a chat.” Wonwoo says flatly, taking a bite of his soggy, depressing, poor excuse for a breakfast burrito. “This is you talking to me and me not responding."

"-with my best pal-"

"Again, not my pal. I barely know you."

"- whom I love dearly and have been childhood friends with -"

"Childhood acquaintance. Even that’s a bit of a stretch.”

"Since we were wee babes," Seokmin finishes. He bats his eyelashes girlishly, clutching his hands together as he leans into Wonwoo's space. Dignity is for people who have pride. Seokmin has neither at the moment. Just a whole lot of desperation.

"Points to Seokmin for alliteration, I'll give you that." Wonwoo chuckles, pulling his beanie down even lower on his head. "Now, before I so kindly spit out this rather disappointing breakfast burrito that was definitely not worth the two dollars I paid to get it at you, what do you want?"

"How do you feel about theater?" Seokmin asks, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"I'm impartial," Wonwoo says slowly, as if weighing his words carefully. He squints at Seokmin. "Why?"

"Well," Seokmin grins broadly, arms sweeping the expanse of the room, "How would _you,_  Jeon Wonwoo, feel about manning the tech booth for our very own, beloved, Pledis High's production of Beauty and the Beast?"

"Are you serious?" Wonwoo's voice is deep and charming, his laugh even more so. "I don't even have any experience with booths."

"You're a quick learner! Jihoon can teach you!" Seokmin says quickly. "And you're one of the few people that I know that actually listen to musicals."

He adds hastily, so that Wonwoo doesn't think that he's a creep: "You're always blasting music at the highest volumes in between classes. One time I caught a whiff of Hamilton."

Wonwoo's eye sparkle a bit at that, and that is when Seokmin knows he's almost got him. In everyone’s heart there is a tiny theater nerd begging to be cultivated.

"The job's all yours, if you say yes." Seokmin pauses, then leans into Wonwoo's space again, hands clasped together. "Say yes, _please_ say yes. Please, please, please _please_ say yes."

Wonwoo tilts his head, as if considering.

Seokmin offers one last piece of consolation.

"Every day you will be able make one (1) Soonyoung squirm with catty remarks and witty one-liners." Seokmin raises his eyebrows, smile wide as he singsongs. "Your absolute _favorite_ pastime."

Wonwoo looks down at his limp breakfast burrito, sighs, and places it down.

"Seokmin, for someone who didn’t talk to me at all until about five seconds ago, you know me very well.”

“Meaning?” Seokmin prods, smile hopeful. He knows what Wonwoo’s about to say, but he wants a verbal agreement anyway. Those suckers are binding.

“I'm in.”

—

The production goes so well that Mrs. Kang practically begs Wonwoo to stay. _There has never been a tech this good_ , she sobs. _You’re a natural._

Wonwoo shrugs noncommittally, agreeing because he has nothing better to do with his time.

The theater kids rejoice. Seokmin throws Wonwoo a party, in the only way that he can: with a depressing looking cake that he baked himself and a plastic crown from the dollar store. Soonyoung cries in repressed teenaged feelings. The poor junior gets booted almost immediately. Not a single tear is shed for him.

Their friend group slowly turns from four to five. Seokmin adores it with his entire being. He has always been a people person, and Wonwoo is easy to care for. He gels particularly well with Jihoon – maybe because they both have an affinity for making fun of Soonyoung, who always takes their jokes well - and their humor is one that Seokmin never tires of.

Seungkwan and he become closer than ever, two peas in a pod. In every musical thereafter, they end up being the main stars, the highly anticipated famous duet. Seokmin’s rich powerful vocals blend well with Seungkwan’s husky tones, and everyone tells him that they transcend when they listen to him sing.

It’s a compliment that never fails to make him blush. It feels surreal, almost.

The theater is packed for the first time in years. Throughout their time at Pledis, they gain a hefty reputation among the student populace. They become somewhat of a package deal. Where one can be found, the other is never too far behind. Seokmin and Seungkwan. Seungkwan and Seokmin.

They go through a lot of changes.

Seungkwan sheds his baby fat, grows taller and leaner and significantly blonder. His vibrancy never changes, it seems, and continues to amplify. He is incredibly kind, and is loved by all, no matter their social circles. He is preparing to become a kindergarten teacher. A brave profession, touching the lives of the young before they turn back and touch the world which shaped them.

Jihoon changes his hair from blonde to red to a horrendous shade of electric yellow, before settling down with his natural hair color: black. He even experiments with a mullet at one point, to which they all hiss in horror when he shows up to school with it, and tells him that it must die. His interests turn from gaming consoles to composing the music that fill the space within them.

Wonwoo gets absurdly more handsome, his locker filled to the brim with love notes from shy crushes. His dry humor becomes more cutting and witty, in an attempt to stave off his admirers, but it only ever seems to attract them by the tenfold. Seokmin tells him it’s because he is a tsundere, laughing, because Wonwoo doesn’t know what the word means. Wonwoo readjusts his glasses, shakes his head fondly, and continues reading his books. He’s studying to become a lawyer, determined to save the world with some fancy sounding words.

Soonyoung becomes the embodiment of teenage rebellion. Ripped jeans, leather jackets, and dangly earrings become a part of his concerto; he is extra loud without having to be so vocally. He always turns heads wherever he goes. Partially because of his vibrant orange hair, and partially because he holds himself so confidently. It’s a compelling charm, and it’s only fitting that he decides that he’s going to be a dancer. Soonyoung was always meant to rock a stage.

Seokmin stays the same.

Or, at least, that's how he feels. He tells Seungkwan this one night, when he's there for a sleepover, blanket drawn up tightly under his chin.

Seungkwan turns to face him then, eyes glittering under the cheap, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. He holds Seokmin’s face in his hands, and Seokmin is reminded of the day they first met. The honesty pouring from Seungkwan is overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time.

“I don’t know,” Seokmin babbles, because this is a habit he’s always had, tripping over his words in an attempt to explain himself. His cheeks flame. “It’s just that you guys have become so cool and know exactly what you’re going do in life, and I just – I don’t.”

“Oh, Seokmin.” Seungkwan says on an exhale, and it is enough for Seokmin to start crying.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” He says softly, and truth of the statement hits him like a truck. “I don’t want to get left behind.”

His mom has always said that it is only when you voice your fears - when you put a name to the things that plague you - that is when they really become scary. And Seokmin is terrified. Of growing up, of his friends moving on to bigger and better things, of caring too much for them, of filling in their gaps when they all eventually leave.

He doesn’t blame them. There are only so many musicals they can perform together before the curtains have to close, and they have to find better acts. They deserve to.

It feels like someone has pressed a needle to his heart, and it aches with a pain that he cannot ease.

Seungkwan doesn’t say anything, just lets Seokmin cry into his chest. They stay like that for hours. Seokmin watches the stars glow faintly until the sun comes up, feeling small for his body.

“Thank you.” He ends up whispering into the spaces of the dark, places where the dawn has not yet reached, Seungkwan’s arms warm around him.

Although he is scared for the future, he knows when he looks back at the past, he will always be fond.

—

Seungkwan might have a flair for the dramatics, but Seokmin doesn't think that this is the reason why the Jeju native reminds him of the ocean. He watches with a quirked smile as Seungkwan traipses around samba-ing with an unamused Jihoon, feather boa thrown haphazardly around his neck, crooning an old love song that everyone really only knows the melody to.

It is because the boy has a lot to give.

He takes up a lot of space, Seokmin thinks warmly, leaning against the wardrobe. He can be kind when he wishes it, angry when the situation warrants it. Most importantly, Seungkwan is very, very transparent.

Seokmin thinks it takes a whole lot of bravery to be that big.

They're screwing around the dressing rooms of their theater. Seungkwan says _their_ , but really, it belongs to Pledis High. It's a dilapidated building, half falling apart in some places and growing mold in others, but to Seokmin, this is home.

It has been, for the last four years of his life. And this is their last show, _ever_.

It really hits him then, that they are seniors.

He looks around the old set. There is a haphazard carving on the brick wall behind one of the prop, their initials etched with a knife that Soonyoung procured out of the blue, all of them giggling while marking up school property.  There are old recycled costumes sitting on the rack, waiting for the next student to shrug it on and become a star, even if it is only for a little while. There is magic here, patiently sitting and wanting to be rediscovered.

Seokmin’s heart presses against its confines.

"Seokmin!" Seungkwan grins, waving an old whisk around before tossing it to him. Jihoon lets out a loud sigh of relief, and nearly stomps on the feather boa in his attempt to get it off of him. Seokmin refrains from laughing because as Soonyoung had said earlier, it really _is_ bigger than jihoon. Lengthwise, at least.

"Stop thinking, it's not a cute look on you, buddy." Seungkwan laughs. Seokmin loves the sound of it. "C'mon, it's _our_ part!"

Seokmin grins, and grabs the whisk midair, just in time before belting out his note.

Wonwoo laughs, nose scrunching up in amusement, as Soonyoung giddily claps his hands together, head in Jihoon’s lap. Seungkwan dances funkily during the bridge, and Seokmin joins him without a second thought. In this moment, they are just five friends just living in the moment, no responsibilities to attend to, no thoughts as to where they need to be, no one to tell them that in a few days, they’ll each have a future to attend to, one that may lead them on roads separate from one another. They just _are._

Seokmin closes his eyes, and lets the feeling wash over him.

Nailed it.

—

 

 

_G R E E N_

_of the color between blue and yellow in the spectrum; colored like grass or emeralds._

_designates the presence of a soul family. sometimes, souls get fragmented when they get created, and the people they inhabit are really just two halves of the same whole._

**_“Sometimes, there are these souls that you find and you see bits and pieces of you in them. And it’s strange to think of someone as a home, but that’s what they become to you.”_ **

 

 

—

 

 

_Y E L L O W_

_of the color between green and orange in the spectrum, a primary subtractive color complementary to blue; colored like ripe lemons or egg yolks._

_used to designate the strange soulmate. there is little known about these souls, except for the fact that they are new to the universe and to the astral plane. be gentle with them, please. they could teach a lot about life, and for something who hasn’t really experienced anything, that’s a tall responsibility._

**_“Once in a while, you’ll encounter a new soul. You can tell right away, because they find everything in the world fascinating in ways you could never hope to imagine. The world hasn’t jaded them yet.”_ **

 

 

—

 

Seokmin discovers the colors of green and yellow in his college years.

He follows Soonyoung and Seungkwan to university. He has never known a life without them, and selfishly enough, he does not want to. There is no universe in which he should have to live a life without the either of them.

Seokmin, by all means, is a creature of comfort. He’s never been particularly brave.

He doesn’t really have an inkling of what exactly he wants to be doing, however, so he takes a multitude of classes in order to figure out his interests, all spanning a variety of academic fields.

Home economics is a disaster. Seokmin has two left hands and two left feet, and leaving him in a space where sharp objects are easily accessible is a brave, if not foolish, decision. His partner figures this out right away, and sticks Seokmin in the corner, delegating him to the egg station.

"Just stay there," Minkyung eyes him cautiously, "and don't touch anything. I'll let you slap your name on all our projects so that we get A, but just please, _please,_ don't break any of my ceramics."

"Sounds great!" Seokmin quips, and sticks to doing work for his other classes, pausing to help her taste test once in a while.

World History just makes for an excellent napping period. Seokmin wonders why exactly he had signed up for an eight o' clock lecture, when everyone who knows of Seokmin knows that his brain is hardly functional until noontime. He learns about dead people reluctantly, bored out of his mind. His notes either have drool or some other kind of liquid stuck to them, a remnant of his hastily eaten breakfast.

He doesn't show up half the time. Neither does his professor.

Science isn't exactly his forte either. He learns right away that he should be nowhere near the lab. He nearly burns it down on his first day, and that generates enough concern for the teacher to request his transfer.

Apparently, reality is nothing like television, and putting in a random mixture of chemicals and "something nice" (which had been Seokmin's favorite pair of socks) will not generate genetically modified little girls that have the power to fly and kick supervillain butt.

Seokmin is largely disappointed. The Powerpuff Girls are a scam. Professor X is a witch _and_ a liar. He laments the loss of his socks; they had reindeer antlers and ears on them _and_ were fuzzy. The best combination out there.

Soonyoung and Seungkwan slap him upside the head for being so stupid, and then treat him out to jajangmyeon, because burning down a building during the first few days in college is kind of an admirable feat for anyone.

He's on his second round of the stuff ("Slow down there, Seokmin, we _are_ broke college kids after all." "Yeah, dude, we can only really treat you out to so much.") when a hand taps him on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," someone drawls, "but aren't you that kid that burnt down the lab? Chem 1A with Mr. Woo, right?"

Seokmin closes his eyes, winces, and steels himself for the inevitable onslaught of embarrassment as he turns around, finger in the air to correct the stranger. He doesn't even have to look at Seungkwan and Soonyoung to know that they're busy giggling into the palms of their hands. Asshats.

"Actually," he says, matter-of-factly, "it was more of an _attempt_ to burn down the chem lab than anything else,  if we're going to be technical here."

The teasing smile he gets back from the boy staring back at him gets blindsided by the brilliant flash of color that fills his horizon. Seokmin's floored, watching the way that it squeezes into spaces he hadn't quite seen before, illuminating the walls of the restaurant. His gaze slides to the boy in front of him, all delicate cheekbones with a gentle, yet inexplicably impish face.

This the kind of face men would burn Rome down for. Is that even a thing? Seokmin's making it a thing.

He's pretty sure he's staring at this point.

"Close your mouth, Seokminnie, you wouldn't want to be catching flies now," Soonyoung teases, as Seungkwan kicks his shins sneakily to get him to spring into action.

He starts and immediately begins to flush, feeling warmth run up the side of his neck and his cheeks.

"Sorry," Seokmin says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Happens every time I meet a soulmate, no matter how many times I've experienced it before."

"Oh, no worries," Pretty Boy smiles cheekily. "Take as much time as you need. I know I'm a looker."

The boy with him slings an arm around his neck and ruffles his hair affectionately, gummy smile coming out to play as he says, "You asshat, we're dating."

"So?" His soulmate asks, sly grin on his face as he waggles two perfectly arched eyebrows at Seokmin. "Three's a party."

"Three's a crowd, actually," his soulmate's significant other - that reminds Seokmin, he should really get their names - pipes up, rolling his eyes. "And Josh _would_ care, remember, he's also dating you."

"Potato, potato, tomato, tomato." Pretty Boy waves his hand airily. "A face like this shouldn't be left only to you two mere mortals to enjoy."

The boyfriend turns to Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin, apology clear in his eyes. "Sorry to bother you guys while you were eating. I'm Seungcheol, that narcissistic bucket-head is Jeonghan."

Jeonghan gasps, mouth opening in indignation like he is offended, then shrugs.

"He's not entirely wrong. My head does have a rather unfortunate shape.” He leans in, whispering conspiratorially. “My mother denies it all the time, but I really do think that she dropped me on the head when I was a baby.”

Soonyoung laughs. "I like you. You're funny."

"Glad I can amuse," Jeonghan grins, shooting him finger guns. "I aim to please. If you get my drift."

With this, he winks at Seokmin, and he feels a bit attacked. Guys that attractive shouldn't be able to act as Jeonghan does. It's dangerous, flirty, and 100% effective. Beautiful people are are given way too much power in this world, Seokmin thinks.

"We'll be leaving now," Seungcheol says warningly. "You gotta scar the freshmen a little bit at a time, Jeonghan. Ease 'em in, a bit, if you will."

"Fine." Jeonghan pouts. He mouths c _all me,_ winking to Seokmin as he tosses a slip of paper onto the table. Seungcheol hits Jeonghan playfully once more on the arm before wrapping one hand around his waist and walking out of the store. Seokmin can hear their animated bickering from outside the store, and he laughs then, kind of amused at it all.

"They're really cute," Seungkwan says in earnest, once they're out of earshot, sipping on his iced tea. Seokmin agrees, thumbing the slip of paper as he looks at Jeonghan's scrawling handwriting, heart swelling just a little bit more.

"Yeah," Soonyoung says, except his eyes are trained elsewhere, on the small gadget nestled in between his fingers.

Seokmin raises his eyebrows. "Dreaming about somebody?"

Seungkwan jumps in, waggling his eyebrows. "Sexting somebody?"

Soonyoung grumbles, and turns his phone off quickly, dropping it so that it clatters onto the table, causing some of the patrons to look over at them in curiosity. The tips of Soonyoung's ears turn red, which cause Seokmin and Seungkwan to cackle uproariously.

"It's both, isn't it?" They finish together, singsonging annoyingly as they bump shoulders in the booth.

"Fuck off," Soonyoung grumbles, grabbing at the tips of his ears, cursing them for their betrayal.

Seokmin just smiles knowingly, and reaches across the table to patting Soonyoung on the shoulder. His tone becomes ominously somber.

"It's alright if you want to bang Wonwoo, Soonyoung."

"Seriously, hyung." Seungkwan copies him, patting Soonyoung on the other shoulder. "It's been a long time coming, if we're being honest here. It's okay. We won't blame you. He is rather attractive, objectively speaking."

"It's totally fine. I'm sure everyone's wanted to do it at least once."

Seungkwan nods seriously. "I, unfortunately, have also gone through this phase once." He shudders, as if remembering. "It was a dark time."

"Do the glasses do it for you?" Seokmin wonders out loud innocently, smiling when Soonyoung shoots him a glare.

"Or is it his lawyer terminology?"

"It's the suit, isn't it."

"Oh my god, Seokmin. You're _right_. It's the suit. It has to be."

"Soonie's always had a thing for men in suits. Remember that time when we watched Kingsman and Eggsy did that thing and -"

"He's not even a real lawyer," Soonyoung moans miserably into his noodles, moving them around half-heartedly. "He doesn't even wear a suit yet, 'cause he's just a student at this point."

"Ah, _yet,_ " Seungkwan smiles, picking up on the nuance, pointing his chopsticks at Soonyoung, nodding his head sagely. "When he does, though, it's over for you, Kwon Soonyoung."

"Shut up before I leave this place and let you two to pay the bill," Soonyoung grumbles into his hands. "I know that."

—

For the first time in his life, Seokmin has friends that are Not Soonyoung and Not Seungkwan.

It's bizarre, but it feels right. Like he is one step closer to achieving adulthood, or something like it. Never mind that he likes to buy pajamas with little animals on them.

("What? They add some spice to my bedroom life," he had said defensively, when Soonyoung had surprised him in the middle of the night because he desperately needed to use the bathroom and his roommate was hogging it.

"I'm going to pretend I never saw those, and that that just didn’t come out of your mouth." Soonyoung mutters, scrambling into Seokmin's bathroom. "For my sake, and yours.")

His childhood friends are busy chasing their dreams. The tendency of time to pull apart and pick at relationships is one that constantly plagues Seokmin's mind, and worries him often, but they all seem to know it. They text often, with updates, and the occasional begrudging selca from Jihoon. They even have a group chat and everything.

Seokmin feels like a proud soccer mom.

Being busy is something that he can never fault them for, and he isn't bitter, just a little bit sad. It just leaves a lot of space where they once occupied, and Seokmin finds himself so lucky that he's found Jeonghan and his boyfriends to fill the void.

They sort of absorb Seokmin into their own circle, inviting themselves into his life and impeding on all the aspects that they deem important, like crushes, or classes, or just advice on life in general.

Where Seokmin would walk alone to his classes, earbuds jammed in and blasting at their high volumes, Seungcheol would accompany him, telling Seokmin witty tales that have him in tears by the time he gets to his lecture halls. Joshua pops up every once in a while, with a plate full of something, whenever Seokmin holes himself away in the library for a cram session, making sure that he has something to eat. Jeonghan makes himself at home in Seokmin's apartment, commenting about the horrendous landscape of his room but never quite doing anything about its condition as Seokmin types away at 10 page reports with a grin on his face.

They've invaded his life. In a good way, he amends. They fill up space that Seungkwan and Soonyoung used to, and for that he is grateful.

It feels nice, like he has three older brothers all looking out for him, except in this universe they're all dating each other.

Seokmin wrinkles his nose in distaste. Bad metaphor.

His phone chimes, and he smiles as he reads the influx of texts coming in.

**some old dudes + a CHILD**

**jeongsus:** party at ours tonite bois eskeddit

 **jeongsus:** invite all the cute men u know

 **jeongsus:** jokes on u all the cute men u know are in this group chat

 **jeongsus:** seokmin just bring u + ur fine self n come on over ;)

 **scoobs** : Since wen I was not informed of dis

 **scoobs** : Jeonghan u haven't even cleaned ur side of the room

 **scoobs** : Like u promised >:0

 **jeongsus:** boooooo

 **shuanator** : scoob, ur so lame

 **scoobs:** Shut up literally how am I always the bad guy here

 **deeeekay** : you are the destroyer of good times and fun

 **deeeekay** : its ok dude

 **deeeekay** : not everyone can be THIS good at it

 **jeongsus:** someone's gotta do it

 **shuanator:** ik this is unrelated but

 **shuanator:** [ STOP YOU COULD'VE MADE ME DROP MY CROISSANT.mp4 ]

 **shuanator:** IM LAUHGING SO HARD JHSDKJFH

 **shuanator:** ⁿᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶦᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵖ ᵐʸ ᶜʳᵒᶦˢˢᵃⁿᵗ

 **deeeekay:** vine is dead and shua just killed it some more

 **shuanator:** shut the heck ur mouth seokmin vine will NEVER die

 **shuanator:** it lives on forever in us,,,,,

 **shuanator:** xD

 **jeongsus** : icb u just used xD in Context

 **jeongsus:** and i wasn't disgusted

 **shuanator:** love makes us do crazy things :P

 **scoobs:**...

 **deeekay** : ...

 **jeongsus:** anyways :3 party at eight be there or be square

 **deeeekay:** i just found out that u say that cause ppl that don't make it

 **deeeekay:** aren't

 **deeeekay:** _around_

 **scoobs:** I actually hate all of u

 **deeeekay:** mwah! Saragne~

 **shuanator:** mwah! Saragne~

 **shuanator:** damnit seokmin u took my meme

Seokmin lets out a loud laugh at this, firing off some more texts that finalize their plans. He gets put in charge of picking a movie and snacks, much to his chagrin. He's never too sure of his title choices, mainly because he always picks something too gooey and sweet and romantic without meaning to. It's the clueless romantic in him, Jeonghan says, ruffling Seokmin's hair proudly, teasing him all the while ("That's _my_ soulmate!").

He turns off his phone, and flops back onto his bed with a broad smile, and feeling so, so unbelievable happy, so unbelievably loved.

It feels good, he thinks, to be living this life, in this moment.

—

(10 missed calls from **boo thing** )

(5 voicemails from **boo thing** )

 **boo thing:** seokmim HELP

 **boo thing:** it's an EMERGENCY!!!

 **boo thing:** seokmin i swear to god

 **boo thing:** u better get ur butt here i'm in CRISIS

 **boo thing:** it’s me, your SOULMATE

 **boo thing:** don't do me like this

Seokmin widens his eyes as he flips his phone on, done the last finals of his junior year, watching the notifications pour in from one very frantic Boo Seungkwan.

He dials Seungkwan back, equally frantic, practically sprinting out of the lecture hall.

"What's wrong?" Seokmin breathlessly asks, when he hears Seungkwan pick up, haphazardly cradling the phone in between his shoulder and cheek. "Where are you? Are you hurt?"

Seungkwan sounds just as frazzled when he answers Seokmin. It's probably not the best idea to contact each other when they're in trouble, since Seungkwan and Seokmin are very excitable individuals who tend to run around like headless chickens when they're panicked in situations, but all rational thought has fled Seokmin's head.

"I'm okay, but I'm kind of having trouble breathing?" Seungkwan's voice quiets down in shame, "I'm _kind of_ hiding in the restroom."

"The restroom?" Seokmin asks, incredulous, opening his car door, tossing his backpack into the passenger seat as he sticks the key in the ignition. His car growls in protest, an old Toyota Camry that runs solely on Seokmin's grit and determination more than anything else.

"Yeah, in our usual coffee place," Seungkwan says nervously. He sounds small, which is the opposite of how he usually is. There is no booming tenor in his voice, which worries Seokmin.

"Please hurry."

"Stay on the line with me," Seokmin instructs as he punches the gas. "I'll be there soon."

"Thank you." Seungkwan whispers. "I know we haven't had time to hang out in while, but you're always there for me, and this is kind of big, and my first thought was to call you right away when I saw him, saw _red_ , and you know what that means, right? True love and all that jazz, like in the fucking fairytales we used to read when we were kids, can you believe?"

"No way," Seokmin breathes, grin sliding across his face as he turns corners, tires squealing. "No fucking way. Seungkwan, you lucky bastard."

"Yeah," Seungkwan sounds breathless now, giddy, like he can't believe it either. "I think I found the one. He's really here."

"Well?" Seokmin says softly. "What are you waiting for?"

Seungkwan takes a shuddering, watery breath.

"Oh, Kwannie," Seokmin laughs lightly, "don't tell me you're going to cry now, Seungkwan?"

"Shut it, Seokmin." Seungkwan grumbles, sounding exactly like he's going to cry. "You know I've always been the sentimental one.

It feels final, almost, the silence between that follows after that. It hits Seokmin, then, that they're kind of old now. They're growing up, growing beyond each other. It's a weird kind of realization.

"Go on," Seokmin says encouragingly. "You wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

Seungkwan sniffles, and there's a rustling that Seokmin knows signifies that the other boy is nodding. The call disconnects, and Seokmin lets out a big breath of air that he didn't know he'd been holding. His eyes are a bit watery, but ask and he'll say that it's because of the stress of the situation, not because of anything else.

He makes the final turn into the parking lot, does a hasty parking job that would probably make his driving instructor cry of shame, and bursts into the cafe, heaving. A mother gasps and tells her daughter to look away, shooting him a dirty look.

Fair enough. Seokmin probably looks crazy. He's wearing the most threadbare ensemble he's ever donned in a while, an ode to college dorm life - a pair of sweatpants with holes in the knees and an oversized t-shirt that has faded lettering from all the times he's worn it, all because he had gotten too lazy to do laundry for the past month or so. He's running on 2 hours of sleep and pure caffeine at the moment; he doesn't just look deranged, he feels it too.

He spots Seungkwan sitting a table in the corner, twiddling his thumbs. His eyes brighten temporarily when their gazes meet, hands beckoning Seokmin on over. There's someone else sitting opposite him. Seokmin's heart does a funny little twist at the sight of their cowlick peeking over the booth.

It feels almost as momentous for him as he imagines it should have felt for Seungkwan. His breath catches in his throat as he sets eyes on Seungkwan's true love.

Seokmin wants to laugh. Stars burst in his vision. A new color streaks the world as he knows it, and he think it might just be his favorite yet, a shade that exudes a warmth that he finds endearing. Fate works in funny ways.

"Hey, a two for one! Nice, I've always been a sucker for good deals," the guy says, laughing and giving Seokmin a shy wave of his fingers. "Um, hi? I'm Hansol, but you can call me Vernon."

"Wait, no way," Seungkwan gapes, looking back and forth between the two of them. "No way?"

Seokmin looks at Hansol, who just grins back at him.

"Way." They say, breaking out into wide smiles. It's totally awesome. They fist bump, which means that they're immediate bros now, and it can't ever be taken back. Seokmin tells him as much, and Hansol just lets out another laugh.

"I wasn't planning on leaving the brotherhood anyways," Hansol says, patting the seat besides him. "Come on, have a seat next to me and let's talk. Life's a bit crazy at the moment." He looks at Seungkwan with a shy smile, which the blonde returns. "In a good way."

Seokmin slides into the seat next to Hansol, mouthing a grateful _thank you_ to Seungkwan as he passes Seokmin a steaming hot cup of coffee.

It's quiet for a beat. Seokmin chooses not to fill it up with something so trivial as words. At the moment, he feels as if they are all gauging one another and figuring out where they'll fit into each other’s lives. He can tell that Seungkwan is feverishly trying to commit every bit of Hansol's face to memory, eyes flitting between each and every feature ovingly and hesitantly, as if he still can't believe he's real. Hansol is doing the same thing, except he's even _more_ obvious, if that's possible.

Seokmin smiles into his coffee, watching them learn each other. His heart aches a little bit in his chest. He wonders if he'll be lucky enough to experience this one day.

Seungkwan's hands have found their way to Hansol's across the table, and there's a soft something blossoming between them. It's magical in a way that makes Seokmin ache with want.

Seokmin extricates himself from the situation, babbling some sort of excuse about needing to shower his dog (he doesn't have one), and leaves. He watches them through the window, from the comfort of his car, just for a little bit longer, feeling his chest simultaneously constrict and lighten at all their touches, their comfortability, their smiles.

So this is what falling in love looks like.

He pulls out of the parking lot and tries not to cry on the way back home.

 

—

 

 

_O R A N G E_

_reddish yellow, like a ripe orange in color._

_designates the wrecking ball soulmate. more often than not, these souls leave one with a bad taste in their mouth and a lesson to learn. be careful, these souls are sharp. they will cause pain if one is not careful._

**_"There are some souls who are not kind. They leave disasters in their wake, debris in their path, and tear up the very foundation of your world as you know it. Maybe they do you a favor, for after every catastrophe you are forced to pick up the pieces and start again."_ **

 

 

—

 

Seokmin goes through a rocker phase in his late twenties.

He doesn’t know what exactly propels him to do so, but he's got a degree in English and a bunch of student loans attached to his name and struggling to find a job. There's really nothing else he can lose.

He finds himself crooning in a seedy dive bar with dramatic eyeshadow, ripped jeans, and a guitar. There’s a stud in his ear, a remnant of an impulsive choice when he turned twenty one and followed Soonyoung into the tattoo parlor. His mother doesn't talk to him for a week after.

It's not a bad life. It puts food on the table, and contrary to what his friends think, Seokmin is having fun.

People love the stud. People love the eyeshadow. People love _him_.

For the first time in his life, Seokmin feels as if he is in a spotlight made for him.

(Maybe in another life, Seokmin thinks he could've been a singer. Being on the stage feels like coming home. He forgot how amazing it really felt, the electric thrill running through his veins as he hits notes he used to dream about when he was in high school.)

He meets this guy in fishnets this one night, when he's taking a break from his set, sweaty and sitting on the back stoop. Dude's all leg, with jeans ripped at the knees and eyes that beckon hazily. He’s got earrings, loads of them, which piques Seokmin’s interests. They share a cigarette, despite the fact that neither of them really smoke, and their backstories as the thing goes back and forth. _I’m a dancer_ , the stranger says, introducing himself as Minghao. A brilliant orange flecks Seokmin's view. _I don't really know what I want to be_ , Seokmin confesses, grabbing Minghao's hand and shaking it.

Minghao loves the guitar. Seokmin likes Minghao enough.

They make excuses - Seokmin to the bar owner, who appreciates the crowd he brings around on Friday nights and lets him off with a goodnatured scowl; Minghao to his friend, another Chinese man who simply winks and tosses him a condom - and scurry away under the cover of night, laughing all the while, trading kisses along the way.

It isn't his first time around the rodeo. He's taken enough lovers occasionally just to get it out of his system. Besides, Seokmin is a guy. He's also twenty five. That's a long time to be dreaming of happy ever after, and not expect him to do anything about it.

It is the first time, however, that Seokmin wakes up the next morning feeling empty and tired and exhausted.

There is a text from Seungkwan in the group chat, inviting them all to his engagement party. He and Hansol have been stronger than ever lately, and he knows that this is more of a formality than anything else. It’s just been a long time coming, and Seungkwan’s parents would absolutely murder him if he had eloped with Hansol. So they’re pulling out all the stops. Engagement party it is.

Seokmin doesn't want to feel bitter, but it crawls up into his throat anyways.

He wants to wake up to someone else who isn't going to leave. He wants what his friends have. He wants it so, _so_ bad. He wants someone's hand to hold and someone's forehead to kiss. He wants what he sees in the movies.

Maybe he is a little bit selfish and maybe he's a little bit dumb - maybe it's a little bit of both. Realistically, he knows that not everyone gets to see their soulmates in this life. Not everyone gets to see in technicolor. He doesn't know. It just - it feels like his life has revolved around working towards this the entire time.

Maybe that's the problem in itself.

Minghao is tugging on Seokmin's shirt, dark bites dotting the space where his neck meets the collar of the shirt, a wry grin on his face.

"Mind if I keep this?" Minghao conspiratorially winks. "Consider it a souvenir."

"Huh?" Seokmin startles out of his daze. "Oh, yeah, go ahead. I have plenty of shirts like that."

"Hey, you okay there buddy?" Minghao asks, pulling on his jeans. Seokmin wants to cry at the absurdity of it all. Of course, he’d pick a one night stand who could probably serve as his therapist.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Seokmin warbles, but suddenly there's a thick lump in his throat that wasn't there before. It's shaky, and comes out more like a whimper than he would like to admit.

Minghao pauses while putting on his coat, and affixes Seokmin with a look that makes him feel very small.

"I'm not giving you any advice, since we're not really friends and I don't know you all that well, but. I’m just saying, you look like you could need a drink."

Seokmin takes a moment to really look at Minghao, to watch as the sunlight streams through his reedy apartment onto the other boy. There are flecks of amber he hadn't noticed before, glittering in his eyes, and his dangly earrings catch in the light in a way that makes Seokmin suck in a breath. His hair is rumpled, clothes wrinkled and hanging off his frame, but the manner by which Minghao carries himself makes him look ethereal still. Untouchable.

"It's barely even ten," Seokmin barks out an incredulous laugh, but this time, it's dry. It sounds wrong, even to his ears.

"All I'm saying is," Minghao shrugs, pulling his credit card out and waving it around, "it's bound to be five o' clock somewhere. I'll pay."

Seokmin stares at him for a beat. Another chime signals that someone has responded to Seungkwan's merry news, and Seokmin swears the pit of his stomach churns once more. Minghao raises an eyebrow.

"Alright," Seokmin sighs. "Where to?"

—

They end up going to Jeonghan's place, which is a small coffee shop on the corner, smack dab in the middle of a busy intersection. It's a tiny place, but it's Jeonghan's through and through, his pride and joy, and the love of his life.

It's called _C'est la Vie_ , and prides itself on the cruelty-free and high organic quality of its products, which makes it 1000% more attractive to hipster college students, who frequent it for the high internet speeds and the aesthetic and the hype. Exactly what Jeonghan had intended.

("You're scamming the youth," Seungcheol laments, flabbergasted at the sheer amount of customers each day, a majority of which are indeed college students.

"Hey, it's called business, honey," Jeonghan says primly, watching his cafe come alive with a proud smile on his face. "It's not my fault that they're willing to pay for overpriced, quality coffee when they're a couple thousand in debt. We gotta make a living somehow, right? And someone's gotta teach them how to rearrange their priorities.")

"You know," Minghao hums, surveying the rustic decor of the place, "when I offered you drinks, this was not what I was expecting."

"I know," Seokmin beams, sipping happily on his hot chocolate, which is 95% whipped cream and 5% actual hot cocoa. Joshua calls it diabetes in a cup, horrified, but makes it for Seokmin anyways. True friendship is letting your friends make questionable choices that may or may not lead to their demise.

"But you said you'd pay, so."

"You got me there," Minghao says, and takes a sip of his coffee, which also has an absurd amount of sugar for someone who seems so daunting, and Seokmin tells him as much.

"I enjoy the rush," Minghao says simply, then breaks out into a giggle. Seokmin joins him after, because it's just _that_ enrapturing and addictive. The college students sitting around them frown in their direction, and one of them even has the gall to shush them. Seokmin sticks out his tongue. Minghao sticks out a certain offensive finger. They're adults. They're entitled to this.

They trade stories again, except it's not about what they want to do. It's about who they want to be. There's a heavy distinction between the two, Seokmin knows, if you stop to look hard enough.

Minghao tells him that he's been in physical therapy for a couple weeks now, trying to recuperate after a particularly nasty fall. He wants to dance, he says, eyes animated. It's all that he's dreamed about since he was a kid. Without it, he is nothing. His eyes turn downwards when he talks about pursuing a future career, and Seokmin tries not to turn the conversation in that direction, understanding that it is a touchy topic.

"It's not that I'm afraid. It's just that it's going to be tough." Minghao says stubbornly, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Seokmin reads between the lines, and just nods.

"You'll make it." Seokmin leans back in his chair, and flashing him a small grin. "You're a pretty stellar dude. And I'm not saying that just because we had sex last night."

Minghao laughs, and looks grateful, like he finally has someone to listen, instead of pepper him with additional questions he doesn't really have answers to. Seokmin knows the feeling.

Seokmin tells him about Seungkwan and Hansol. About how he's happy for them, he truly is, but a part of him feels empty because he doesn't have that. He doesn't know what he wants to do, but he knows the kind of people he wants in his life. He knows the kind of person he wants to be. He knows what he wants to have.

"That's a start, isn't it?" Seokmin whines, petulant, "That's all I can really do, right? I'm not asking for too much, I don't think."

Minghao makes a sound that isn’t necessarily one of dissent, but it’s not one of agreement either.

“What?” Seokmin asks, putting down his cup of cocoa.

"You, my friend," Minghao says, patting Seokmin on the shoulder somberly, "are _too_ comfortable."

Seokmin gapes. "Did you miss the part where I literally have no idea what to do in my life? That I haven't touched my undergrad degree since I've gotten out of college. My paycheck sometimes has beer stains on it, for god's sake. In which way, tell me, am I _too_ comfortable?"

Minghao tilts his head, making a hum of agreement. "Mm, yeah, I got that part. But it's what's in here," he says, closing one eye and pointing a finger at Seokmin's heart, "that's too comfortable."

"The fuck does that even mean?"

"It means what it means," Minghao shrugs, sipping his drink. "From what you've told me, it seems like you've spent your whole life making space for others. You’ve gotten used to having them in your life, and you kind of just - account for them, without realizing it. It's like, just because you were meeting your soulmates, they _had_ to be included in the grand scheme of your life somehow."

"And I'm not saying you should cut out Seungkwan or Soonyoung out of your choices or anything. They seem like good people. Keep them around. But have you ever had a moment in your life where your decisions _didn't_ revolve around soulmates?"

Seokmin stares at Minghao. "Of course I have, " he splutters. It sound lame, even to his ears.

Minghao makes a square with his fingers, and peers through them at Seokmin like some sort of lens. Seokmin feels like he’s being looked at raw, that Minghao’s looking at him as he is, and it’s unsettling in ways he can’t even begin to describe.

“I wanna know what makes up Lee Seokmin.” Minghao says. “I wanna know about the guy who pursued a degree in English. His dreams. His aspirations. I don’t care about the people that belong in his heart. I don’t care about his soulmates. They’re entirely different people. What’s _your_ story?”

Seokmin looks down, unable to find an answer.

Minghao looks tired. "There's your problem."

It's quiet for a beat.

"Listen," Minghao says, leaning forward. "We're all raised romantics. Our teachers teach us that there's somebody out there for us, that there are several somebodies other there for us to just stumble upon at different parts in our lives. It's nice to have something to fall back on, to reassure ourselves when we're at our lowest. It's nice to think that there will be people there for you at the end of the day."

"What they don't tell you is that soulmates aren't a guarantee, even though God knows we have however many cases all around us to tell us that." Minghao softens a bit at this. "We just choose not to see it. You've spent your entire life dreaming about falling in love. Why don't you make it happen? Don't just wait for things to come to you."

"Soulmates aren't a done deal, Seokmin. They don't have to be. Think of it like a back-up plan."

Seokmin sits there, stunned. He needs several moments to process this. His world feels like it's pulling itself apart only to be put back together again, except all wrong and nothing quite fits like it's supposed to. There's a gaping wound, he thinks, where his heart should be.

What comes out of his mouth instead, is, "Where did you learn all this?" He squints. "Are you God?"

Minghao's pleasant fairy giggle reappears. "No, I wish. Anyways," he smiles, looking at Seokmin's phone as it chimes hesitantly. "I'd better go. I've got an appointment to catch."

He kisses Seokmin on the forehead before he leaves.

"Merry Christmas, Seokmin. Call me if you need a drinking buddy," Minghao says softly, corners of his mouth quirking up. The bells on the door twinkle a tiny farewell as he makes his way out.

Seokmin blinks at the space Minghao had occupied, then sweeps his gaze across the cafe, finally seeing for the first time, the festive decorations adorning the place.

He hadn't even noticed.

—

 

 

_R E D_

_of a color at the end of the spectrum next to orange and opposite violet, as of blood, fire, or rubies._

_used to designate the true love soulmate. when one encounters their true love(s), they will know: this is the one. it is an epiphany that rings true in the heart. no other indications would need be given for one to know._

**_"True love is a fire that never dies. Something that can never be extinguished. When the world goes dark and the sky crumbles, there will still be a faint glow, and my heart will know that it is you. It has always been you."_ **

 

 

**_—_ **

 

Time trudges on. Gig after gig after show after show. He's still doing the singer-in-bars thing, but it's more of a side hustle now, something to help him unwind after a long day at work. There's an internship with one of the big publishing companies that he's taking, thanks to some help from Jihoon.

Days pass in a blur. Some days, he’s helping his boss thumb through pages of manuscript, squinting in pain at the tiny text. He’s come to despise Times New Roman with a passion, despite the fact that it really is a universal font. He hates Comic Sans even more.

On others, he finds himself hanging out with Soonyoung and Wonwoo, two of the only bachelors left in their groups, eating takeout on their couch and surrounded empty bottles of beer. They tell Seokmin their horror stories from their respective experiences at their workplaces, and in turn he tells them about the terror he experiences on the daily at his — paper cuts. _Everyday is a battlefield_ , he mutters mournfully, in the face of their shrieking laughter.

And that’s how the time goes. Just like that, he’s suddenly sitting in a bar, celebrating his thirties, surrounded by the people who love him the most.

Seokmin has never felt so alone.

It feels like everyone’s got their lives together except for him tonight, especially so. Self-pity is particularly high with the rise of the mercurial moon tonight, it seems.

Jeonghan is slumming it with Minghao, who recants his stories from overseas, eyes wide and hands moving expressively. His boyfriends laugh giddily together, enraptured by Minghao's tale, and it is Seungcheol who loses rock, paper, scissors, and has to move to order more shots for all of them. Hansol's got one arm slung around Wonwoo shoulders, smile wide as he shows him all 87482 pictures of Seungkwan he's got on hand, in his wallet, for some bizarre reason. Even Jihoon's taken a couple moments out of his busy schedule to unwind, his boyfriend Junhui hovering protectively over his shoulder.

"How does it feel?" Seungkwan asks, coming up to Seokmin with a grin on his face. His ring glints in the dim light, and it makes Seokmin extra sad today for some reason.

"Depressing." Seokmin deadpans. "I want a kid."

"I may be mistaken," Soonyoung is already slurring his words after one and a half bottle of beer. Lightweight. "But I think you've got the wrong plumbing for that."

"You've got time," Seungkwan offers brightly, wilting slightly when Seokmin says grumpily, "Easy for you to say, you've already on the way to getting a little sucker."

"Oh, really?" Soonyoung smiles, eyes glittering as he turns to Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hits Seokmin on the shoulder, but there's no heat behind it. He still feigns pain anyways.

"Seokmin! That was supposed to be a secret. We don't even know if we've passed the screening process yet."

"You're gonna be great parents, Seungkwan. You and Vern have enough love between the two of you to power the universe, if you wanted to." Seokmin says, arms waving around wildly. "There's no way you're _not_ gonna pass."

Seungkwan gushes as he babbles a thank you, arms coming around the two of them in a large hug. Soonyoung and Seokmin pat Seungkwan consolingly but make eye contact with one another and gag behind Seungkwan's back.

"Wait," Seungkwan says, extracting himself from their embrace. "Tonight isn't about me, it's about you." He looks almost pitying as he says it, running a hand up and down Seokmin's arm in sympathy, which makes Seokmin hate the situation a lot more. "How are you?"

"I’m doing a lot better than I expected," is the answer that Seokmin decides to go with. It’s the truth. He’s getting older, now, and he feels increasingly helpless as it marks another year that he hasn’t managed to find The One.

He's never been one for lying anyways, not to his best friends.

"Retweet," Soonyoung says mournfully, downing another glass. "Being thirty is depressing."

"I'll drink to that." Seokmin chuckles, clinking his glass against Soonyoung's. The bartender just keeps the drinks coming, which. The guy's doing a good job. The best job. He should get paid more, Seokmin thinks resolutely. Where's his manager? Do they have Yelp? He'll give this guy a stunning review. They'll have to give him a raise at this point.

The bartender is laughing at him now. Oops, did he say it out loud?

"Yeah," Seungkwan says fondly, prying Seokmin's and Soonyoung's fingers from their respective glass. "I think that's enough for the both of you tonight."

“Hey Seungkwan?" Seokmin mumbles. "Can I ask you a question?"

Seungkwan pauses, hands around the beers, face softening as he says, "Sure, buddy. What is it?"

Seokmin thinks he means to ask about the adoption process, or maybe about Seungkwan's job, but instead his mouth says, "What does it look like?” He sounds a little desperate. He doesn't mean to say that, but it just slips out. “The color red, I mean?”

Seungkwan sighs. "Oh, Seokmin."

"You don't have to," Seokmin babbles again. Words are flying by so fast he's not sure which ones get out and which ones get kept in. It's all blurring together in this moment. "But I just wanna know. Just in case, you know? It never happens. I never meet The One. It's just that, you know, it's kind of late, and if it hasn't happened by now, it's gonna only get less likely to happen?"

Seungkwan hums, contemplating.

"Okay," he says. "I'll tell you what it feels like. It's kind of hard to describe it, but I'll do my best. Hold out your hands?"

"Really?" Soonyoung snorts. "Are we doing a séance now?"

Seokmin and Seungkwan ignore him both, and Seokmin obliges, obediently giving Seungkwan his hands. Seungkwan grips them softly, rubbing soothing circles into the tops of his hands as he begins.

"It's like warm, but not like yellow. And it's not as dark as orange either, but it's somewhere in between. It's the color that makes me think of the heart, because it's just as genuine. If that makes sense."

Seokmin tries to visualize it, but can't. He frowns. "You're kind of bad at this."

"I told you, it's hard!" Seungkwan laughs, apples of his cheeks showing.

Seokmin is disappointed, but he smiles anyways, careful not to let it show. He retracts his hands from Seungkwan's warm grasp.

"Color is a hard concept to explain. All the writers I look at never quite can get it right either. Thanks for trying, though."

"It's kind of bold." Soonyoung muses idly, from where he's sitting. "Like, it's constantly there, in your face."

Seokmin and Seungkwan turn to stare at him.

"It also highlights everything? Like it runs underneath in tinges." Soonyoung meet their gaze, smiling as if he's discovered the cure to cancer. " _That's_ when you know you're alive. When you're seeing red."

“Let me get this straight.” Seokmin curls his hand into a fist as he tries to process this new information. “This entire time, y-you could see it? Red, I mean?”

Soonyoung's cheeks are flushed. He's comfortably drunk at this point, and makes it known as such as he waves his hands around.

"Well, yeah." Soonyoung pouts, frowns like he's thinking of something in particular, and blows a raspberry. "It's not a great as you'd think it is." He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, _Jeon Wonwoo is a bastard_ into the palm of his hand.

"Since when," Seokmin says.

"Seokmin," Seungkwan titters nervously, hand coming to rest on Seokmin's shoulder.

"You knew too?" Seokmin accuses, eyes glittering as he turns around, intentionally shrugging Seungkwan's hand off.

"This isn't the best conversation to have at a bar, guys, c'mon," Seungkwan says instead. Indignation burns at the back of Seokmin's throat. He doesn't know why he fixates on this so hard, but he does.

Maybe it's the beer. Maybe it's the alcohol. They're one and the same thing, he has to struggle to remind himself. Seokmin is watching himself from outside his body, watching himself blunder clumsily through it all. _Stop it,_ he's yelling, but of course, he isn't listening.

"Yeah," Soonyoung tilts up his chin. "Yeah, I can see it. So what?"

"So what?" Seokmin asks incredulously. "You've already met your true love, but you're not with them?"

Soonyoung sticks out his tongue mulishly. "True love is for fairy tales and little kids, Seokmin. This is real life."

Something snaps.

"Maybe, but what's the point if you're not even going to give it a try?" Seokmin demands. "There are people who would give anything in your shoes, Soonyoung."

"Don't say people when we _all_ know you're talking about yourself." Soonyoung shoots back, angry and agitated. His leg moves a mile a minute. Up, down, up, down, up, down.

"Guys," Seungkwan says warningly, gaze flitting worriedly between the two of them. "Calm down."

"I will when this asshat apologizes." Soonyoung huffs, crossing his arms.

"I'd rather be an asshat than a coward." Seokmin mutters, soft enough for it to be lost in the hubbub of the bar. It doesn't though. Soonyoung stands up, chair screeching across the aluminum floor, hands curled into fists.

“You don’t get it,” Soonyoung grits out, tips of his ears turning red. Seokmin’s used to seeing it flame because of another reason, but this? This is new. It’s unsettling and he doesn’t like it. There is an uneasiness in his chest that wasn’t there before. He wishes he could swallow his words, shove them deep, deep down, where they never get to see the light of day.

But this isn’t how the world works, and nothing said can ever be forgotten just like that.

“Not everything’s neat enough to be wrapped up tightly with a bow on top, Seokmin.” Soonyoung says. “Just because you see colors when you look at someone, it doesn’t mean you’re meant to be. It doesn’t mean that everything will fall right into place, just peachy, just because. You want to see in technicolor, right? Well, you're almost there, isn’t that fan- _fucking_ -tastic for you.”

He tosses a wad of won onto the table. Soonyoung looks almost sad.

“At the end of the day, Seokmin, they’re just a bunch of colors. You can’t do anything with that.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but he stops himself, shaking his head.

“Hope you’re happy, Seokminnie. Merry thirty.”

He leaves Seokmin nursing a beer and a heavy heart, reminded of a conversation he had not too long ago, when he was twenty six. Except the one leaving was Minghao, and not Soonyoung.

Maybe they have a point.

—

Seokmin wakes up after that.

He calls Soonyoung, tells him that he's sorry. Soonyoung just grumbles his assent into the receiver, pauses for bit, then asks Seokmin if he wants to grab some deep dish pizza with him. It's his own funny way of forgiving people.

He puts away the guitar, takes the stud out from his ear. They both collect dust in a corner of his apartment, a reminder when he was a bit foolish and fearless. He settles down in the city, finds a job as an editor with a successful printing company. He likes words. He likes the way they whisk him to different places despite the fact that his feet stay planted firmly on the ground.

It's really good for him.

Seungkwan and Hansol pass the screening process, move to the suburbs, and find themselves the parents of an adorable toddler with a penchant for getting into trouble. She's only just learned how to mobilize herself, which causes for some hilarious episodes at the Boo-Chwe household. Seokmin finds himself over at their house a lot, to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city when he needs time on a project, but mostly because he wants to see Kyulkyung, whom he adores the living daylights out of. He doesn't want to brag, but he's pretty sure that he's her favorite uncle too.

Soonyoung is coming up on the burnt out end, bones aching and creaking from his stint performing around the world. Thirty is old for a dancer, especially one who used to spend from dawn to dusk practicing until his clothes reeked of sweat. He's rented a space next door to Jeonghan's studio, and resorts to yelling at kids and instructing them as they pursue their dreams of becoming a dancer. Seokmin teases him, tells him that he's become an old senile man as he's aged.

He and Wonwoo are still stuck in some weird limbo, a lingering remnant of their high school and college days. Seokmin tells him that they should fix it, or at least, address the elephant in the room. Wonwoo pretends like he has no idea what he's talking about. Soonyoung tells him just as vigorously, to fuck off. They're roommates, which takes the cherry on top. Yeah, like that's not going to be a problem.

Speaking of Wonwoo, he's become an executive hotshot lawyer, the kind that you see on TV, like in the dramas. He's really good at his job, which simultaneously makes Seokmin proud and ready to piss his pants for knowing such a monster. It's scary to watch him at work, as he'd learned when he had dropped by the courtroom to give Wonwoo his lunch. Seokmin prefers hanging out with Wonwoo off-hours, where he's still very much a nerd that enjoys reading encyclopedias and delivering insults that totally go over Seokmin's head.

Jihoon makes a living as a video game composer for one of the most competitive industries out there. Seokmin's always admired the fact that he found a niche that was so very much his own. He lives in the city too, except in a posh penthouse close enough to touch the sky. The cold Busan boy finds love in the form of a handsome Chinese man - in fact, the very one that had tossed Seokmin a condom when he and Minghao had done the dirty. His name is Junhui, and he's everything that Jihoon is not. Fate works in funny ways. Seokmin will forever pat himself on the back for this one, no matter how many times Jihoon flicks him upside the head and insists that this has nothing to do with him.

Jeonghan's business is booming. _C'est la Vie_ has done so well that he's decided to open up another store in another part of town. Fortuitously enough, it's also near another college, so he's not too worried about making ends meet. Seokmin still drops by once in a while to complain about the overpriced coffee to Jeonghan's face. It doesn't matter, because he always gets it on the house anyways. _Consider yourself the guinea pig,_ Jeonghan winks as he shoves his newest concoction over the counter for Seokmin to try. He does it in good faith that Jeonghan hasn't poisoned it and he won't drop dead one of these days (even if the ingredients are a bit bizarre).

Minghao flits in and out of Seokmin's life, dropping in whenever his schedule allows for it. He's busy seeing the world, he says with a grin, and can't be bothered to hang around town for too long. _Besides_ , Minghao winks, _I could have better-looking company than you_. He's not a dancer anymore - his back gave out on him not too long after, because he had rushed back a little bit too soon - but Minghao finds his home in the arts, becoming a world-renowned fashion designer. He sends Seokmin pieces from his collection sometimes, and Seokmin keeps them firmly in the closet. As a testament to their friendship. There's no way he can figure out how to even get himself in those clothes, let alone wear them out on the street, and frankly, he doesn’t even want to ask.

Seokmin doesn't know what he had been worrying about - in the end, he and his friends all found their way back to each other. He feels sort of foolish for fretting about it, but in the end, he takes it with a pinch of salt, looking back on it fondly, on days where they manage to scrape together some time and gather together, talking about the good old days.

The underlying fear that he won’t be able to see in all the colors still exists. Sometimes it seizes him with a vengeance more vindictive than others, rearing its ugly head where it doesn't belong. Seokmin makes do those days, curls up with a book, or schedules a hangout with one of his buddies. He copes. He's doing alright.

He gets a dog, a huge fluffy beast that terrifies all the kids in his neighborhood. He's always wanted a dog, and besides, he's always been a sucker for scary, soft-hearted animals. It's what most of his friends are, anyways. He names her Snowy, because her fur is pitch black. He laughs when he picks it, letting her big frame engulf him with a flurry of kisses. Wonwoo must be rubbing off on him.

His mom is proud of him, coos in the way that only mothers can really do, and dotes on him whenever he manages to find time to come home for the holidays. _Look at my little Seokminnie,_ she nearly sobs into his shirt, _all grown up now_.

The way it happens is funny, because it’s not this fanfare that he expects it to be. In fact, it happens to be the most mundane of things, and not spectacular in any way at all. He's doing the groceries, squinting at the little bubble of text that Soonyoung sent him for tonight's party. He should really get glasses.

"Green onions!" Seokmin triumphantly deciphers the tiny symbols, nearly dropping his phone in the produce in his excitement.

"If you're looking for the green onions," someone says amusedly, "they're in the next aisle over."

"Thank you," he says, turning to look at his savior. Something clicks in his perspective.

"Oh," he says, a little bit dazed, a little bit in awe.

Soonyoung was right. It does runs underneath everything, sprinkling the landscape with a hue that Seokmin never knew that he was missing. He feels alive.

"Oh," the stranger repeats, mouth smiling wide to showcase some slightly crooked canines. The ID badge clipped to his jeans reads _Kim_ _Mingyu_.

It's not the end, by all means, but it could be the start of a good future.

—

Seokmin wakes up to a particularly ravishing kiss and a giant puppy in his bed. Snowy barks from outside the bedroom door, wanting to be let in.

He opens his eyes. Mingyu smiles back at him. It still doesn’t feel real. Even after six whole months of cheesy date nights and falling in love with each other.

“Lee Seokmin,” Mingyu whispers softly, walking his fingers up Seokmin’s chest. Something in there tells Seokmin he's found home. “How does it feel to finally be able to see in technicolor?”

Seokmin grins, rolling Mingyu over, straddling him, and pulls the blanket over the both of them as he gives his true love a well-deserved kiss.

“Let’s just say it’s been long overdue.”

—

 

_F I N._

  


**Author's Note:**

> any comments/kudos r so very appreciated ♡ ty for giving this fic a read
> 
> u can also hmu on [ twitter](https://twitter.com/swimnfooIs) !! i'm constantly on there aha


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